The Last Othellan

Edoras

There was a knife ripping through my wrist. An enemy laughing at my pain. And a baby's cries punctuated the night.

I awoke with a gasp and sat, wrenching my eyes open and leaning heavily on my right arm. The events of the previous night came back to me, and for a minute I could barely breathe.

Then, the present materialised. I tried to remind myself that I was surrounded by people who cared, not by enemies. My arm stung.

Legolas had looked around at my gasp, and got up from next to Gimli, striding over. Gimli sat by the fire, Gandalf looked out from a rock at the planes of Rohan, and Aragorn was tending to the horses. Clearing his throat obviously as Legolas left the fireside, Gimli wondered away and over to Aragorn.

Legolas sat down and pulled me into a hug. "It's alright" he muttered quietly. My heart was still beating wildly as the memories of the night before flashed in front of my eyes. I hid in his embrace as my breathing quickened. Saerwen's eyes flashed before me, but I tried to focus on my surroundings, on the soft material I was leaning against, as Legolas reassured me.

"Sshh, Aúthiel, breathe". I pulled free of him slightly and gradually matched the slow rise and fall of his chest.

"I'm okay" I muttered, and he unwrapped his arms from my body, sitting close.

"I will not ask how you feel", Legolas muttered quietly. "I think I know the answer to that question"

I sighed, and nodded. "I've seen so much, Legolas. This is just another consequence of all that I have done"

"No" he said fiercely "You are not at fault"

"Am I not?" I answered sceptically "Every villain has a reason for being a villain. It seems I and my family are a big part of why Saerwen is the way she is. My mother-" I halted. I could not speak of it, what my mother had done. The murder of the boy – of my half-brother – seemed to me as plain as the grey sky now.

"Was what she did so terrible?" asked Legolas. Anger flared inside me.

"Yes, Legolas, mother was Othellan, like the rest of them. Murder is in their blood, in my blood. If you knew half of the things I have done, you would run as far away as your legs could carry you"

"Murder?" Legolas muttered. I fiddled unconsciously with the thief brand mark on my left hand. I had not meant to use that word, but I was so angry. Angry at Saerwen, and at mother, and even at Legolas.

I sighed deeply. I had no reason to be angry at Legolas, particularly after the last few weeks of our journey. He had done so much for me, perhaps especially the previous night. His kindness and patience were so comforting, and so unfamiliar. I had never been shown so much care. How could I repay him for that?

"I'm sorry I snapped" I murmured. "Yes, murder. My mother committed murder for me when I was an infant. That is why Saerwen hates me so much. I know who mother murdered, and if our roles were reversed, I would want to rip Saerwen limb from limb."

"You cannot control your mother's past. It is not your fault that this murder was committed"

"But it was because of me" I said. My eyes filled with tears again, thinking of the half-brother I had never known, but I forced them back.

Legolas, ever observant, put an arm around my shoulders. I lent slightly against him, soaking up his care, reminding myself that I was not alone anymore.

"Perhaps. However, you cannot change the fact that it happened. Whatever your mother did, to blame you for it is unjust. You were a child, Aúthiel."